and in the darkness something more
by v2point0
Summary: TF:P Megatron/Starscream drabbles. If they could call this thing between them anything, it'd be "dangerous". SLASH
1. Embracing or Destroying

So, I've been working on a collection of fics centered around Megatron and Starscream in the T_ransformers: Prime_ universe. In a romantic, sexual, and, well, hateful sense, haha. I've been inspired by quite a few sources, and this includes 50_darkfics at livejournal. While I staked my claim, I do not think I've yet to be accepted. However, I don't think they'd mind if I borrowed their prompt table. Also, not all entries are 50_darkfics prompts.

Anyway, I'm sort of taking requests? I'm really interested in writing TF:P MT/SS at the moment. So if you've got a prompt or idea, send it my way. I cannot guarantee I'll fill it, but if it tickles my fancy, I can sure try.

The fics jump back and forth; it's not a linear series. So one fic might regard their first meeting, then the next, somewhere farther down the line, and then back.

Let's begin then!

**and in the darkness, something more**

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><p>Embracing or Destroying: PG-13

Based on: 'ravished'

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><p>The beginning had not been near as tumultuous as it was now.<p>

There had been a time when the two called themselves comrades without sarcastically undermining any loyalty or skill. A time when they worked side by side without worrying the other was about to plant a knife in their back. In the beginning, as so many things tended to be, it was something much more simple and respective.

Their ideals did not clash as they did now. Starscream honored Megatron's desire to bring Cybertron out of the shadows that lingered at her horizon. Ignored by the ignorant and blind Autobots, a society who thought of nothing but stagnation and simplicity in their little, common lives. Their dreams were empty, nothing, the populace; but they did-they dreamed frequently. About reaping the true potential and power of their homeworld, to bring her into a glorious bloom no radiance could ever compare. And many would call their ideals insane and immoral; they were able to plot in the safety of those shadows the Autobots turned a blind eye from.

Megatron found the Seeker was competent and reliable. He'd never imagine how wrong he'd be in the future. He saw great intelligence, wit and a mind of wicked schemes. Megatron was the strength of this war, the power that held it up like the world on Atlas's shoulders. His words were hymns and biblical in proportion. Starscream, small and sleek, slipped and wound through the shadows, worked strings and spoke sweet and saccharine words and persuasions. Together, they made the heart and soul of the Decepticon faction.

There was a time where Starscream would have followed Megatron to the Pit. Because he believed in the same conquest and power the tyrant boasted and gloated about. The same he _promised_ the Seeker the day they met in the darkness behind the gladiatorial pits. Megatron's words convinced him that what they were doing was for the best. For Cybertron, for her race. And if people had to be crushed underfoot to prove this, it was well worth it.

The emotions were mild in terms of professional respect. They drew the line between superior and inferior and never crossed over. Ah, a time long forgotten, so much so, it probably never existed. When Megatron considered advice from Starscream legitimate and worthy of consideration, when Starscream believed Megatron was doing everything in his power to see to their success.

Something changed over the course of making history. Something hot and heated and unanticipated. Something neither understood or comprehended or bothered to explain. There was a night when Autobot energon was soaking the blackened, charred grounds of Cybertron, and there they stood, parting the massive sea. Bodies stretched in every directions, pieces and parts and no online sparks to be accounted for.

And there they were. Their guns were still smoking, still heaving though now emptied of all ammunition. Their bodies ravaged and damaged and dragged through Hell. Their energon intakes desert dry, vents sputtering air hot from their circuitry, vision blurred from film of soot and smoke clouding their optics. They looked at one another, standing side by side, still in battle poise. And there were words left unspoken that neither can nor wish to recall in this day and age.

It wasn't so much the actual, physical act they remembered from that night. There were many details left forgotten, in fact. But what always would remain like a ghost in their memories were the emotions. The way they felt as if they had one last day on the planet; as if they were on the edge of death and if they had one last thing they needed to do, this was it.

They had forgotten the way the wounds felt beneath their clawing, groping hands. Along bumps and bruises, dipping into tears both superficial and exposing peripheral circuitry. They would not remember wandering, feverish hands memorizing undiscovered countries. They would remember, however, just the way it felt-how they heaved, vents hitching, bodies shaking and armor rattling.

They would not remember the noises. The cries, the snarls, the groans and whimpers. But they would remember the feeling behind each. Pleasure, pain; annoyance, victory; stress, relief. Submission, domination and how they blurred together depending on where they pushed and pulled and touched.

The taste of metal, the feel of jagged teeth, shadows to the emotions. A blinding light, there was that; they would always remember that. They might have forgotten how deep that heated moment got if not for the eternal residue of a spark bond hiding and tucked behind their souls. The very light that whitewashed their vision and temporarily blinded them as they clashed together. It was so strong that even faintly recalling merely a second of the act send shivers racing down their backbones.

When it was over, they said nothing. They both knew this was not the time, nor the place. This did not belong. And they saw, felt, heard, tasted, smelled the lust and how there had been no love. They never loved one another, and they never would. The moment of glory had taken them into a whirlwind and they rode it without fighting back. That was all there was to it.

If it were only that simple. They had not seen love, but they had seen so much more. The quiet, subtle doubts and desires that worked against the other. They could sense a small rift, very tiny; but as with everything on the planet, there was more than meets the eye to even the tiniest of fragments and wounds. Still, now was not the time to address it and as long as it stayed quiet and subtle, there would be no need to ever address it in the future.

And as it was only natural, a catalyst would bring their relationship into a new dawn. An era as dark and destructive as Cybertron herself. Instead, those moments where they felt equal, fleeting as they were, disappeared. Consumed by those tiny nagging voices. Starscream could see that no longer was the planet's best interests in his best interests. And Megatron could see that Starscream was mistaking greed for nobility.

Power corrupted even the strongest of titans. Soon, Cybertron's glorious future no longer mattered to them. It was now about being the strongest in the universe. The superior race to become the superior race. Autobots were no longer blind, misguided fools but mindless obstacles with no sense of feeling. Where there might have been compassion there was now only endless need. And somewhere down the line, the race became personal, until it was between commander and subordinate.

That same manipulative wit Megatron had admired was now turned on him. Starscream's honesty was more and more polluted with lies. Defeated battles and arguments turned violent and fierce when once they had simply gone separate ways to cool off. Megatron might have dropped everything he was doing to come to his best warrior's aide, but now he hesitated at even the slightest mention of trouble or danger to his second-in-command.

What was once valuable was useless. What was once respect was now disgust. The day the two met and saw in each other advantages and a balance was now just a diluted fantasy.

But it wasn't to say the passion was gone. It was just... different now. Dangerous, fatal, wicked. And then their knives were sharpened and their eyes always open. They slept vigilance and alert. They spoke careful and calculated. They were ticking time bombs now, not associates, not companions. Who was the first to cross that line they drew and honored so long ago. They eagerly awaited when that time would come, because then they had all the justification they needed to bring the other down to ruins. For now, their boundaries were safe in their uneasy alliance and with the pros still outweighing the cons, they did not push or taunt the other into making that fateful move between life and death, loyalty and treachery.

And so a more quiet little war waged beneath the Decepticons and Autobots. It was between them, Megatron and Starscream and anyone who got in their way was simply collateral damage. A constant battlefield they stood upon when together, each on their own side, each ready and willing to go for their gun. And sometimes, the war outside their world seemed insignificant; moments where they'd lose themselves in private affairs. But they would make no mistake as the encounter that night when the skies were red and the planet's surface bloodied.

Ravishing them little by little as the days, months, years and centuries passed. Always tiptoeing around the edge and along the line. Neither quite making the blow that would finish and decide everything once and for all. But their ammunition was always stocked, in both a literal and figurative sense.

Inside, they were storming and itching and ready and willing. Outside, they smiled and offered only the best of condescending flattery and praise and trust.

END

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><p>Thanks to carrioneater at livejournal for helping me out with this prompt. The title of this drabble is from a quote by Eugene Kennedy.<p> 


	2. King and Crown

King and Crown: R (sexuality)

Inspired by art by tench at deviantART. The picture: http : / / fav . me / d4f6vgd (you will need to remove spaces to access link)

A/N: Story's sort of an alternate reality idea regarding the end of TF:P, season 1, borrowing bits and pieces of the G1 movie.

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><p>If Starscream were to give a king's speech to his new legion of Decepticons, he might've added Megatron to the list of those he was grateful for. No more than a foot note, mind you. Out with the old, in with the new, and that crazy old bat deserved no more than just a few sentences in his awe-inspiring, powerful speech to his kingdom.<p>

Yes, that was correct. His kingdom. Not Megatron's. If he were to hypothetically thank Megatron as previously mentioned, he would have thanked him for making him strong, resilient, all the more determined to bring the tyrant down. Then he would have thanked him for doing that all himself. Who would have thought Unicron would be Megatron's undoing? Oh, it all looked so hopeful and bright for Megatron in the beginning - He was given an ugrade; new look, new weapons, even a new name - Galvatron, how _pretentious_ - but still sporting the same old attitude and outdated ideals.

Then, the Autobots intervened and with a little flick of the wrist and a metaphorical stab in the back, Unicron was back in his slumbering prison and Galvatron was on his knees, bleeding and weak and rejected by those who once believed in him. He could no longer give them what they needed - a brilliant leader to follow and a bright future to call their own. So when Starscream easily glided toward the former Decepticon leader broken in the dirt, tilted his chin back with the edge of his boot and sneered in his face, any disrespect or misguided illusions the Decepticons had for Starscream vanished.

Starscream took rise in the ranks and assumed control. As he had dreamed and schemed and preached to the deaf and blind, he was leader now. The commander of the Decepticons and, soon, all of Cybertron itself. Then so many galaxies, so many possibilities, ripe for the taking, and Starscream would burn his mark into their cores and they would know who had conquered and chained them 'til they burned to dust.

The Seeker placed the crown on his head, in both a figurative and literal sense. Knock Out could poorly attempt to conceal and hide his gossip and disdain for Starscream's fashion sense all he wanted, but the medic was of no concern or threat to him. As long as it pleased Starscream, nothing else mattered. The wine-purple cape accentuated his features, shaped well the silver and red lines of his frame. The crown was not necessary, but Starscream found assuming a throne required one nonetheless.

Forged from the volcanic pit where Unicron was to rise, the crown was a fierce gold, a headband woven like vines sporting rubies to equal the same powerful glow of his optics. The center piece clipped perfectly against the antenna sprouting from the center of his forehead. His throne matching the taste and grandeur which he wore and exuded.

Though it was the little things that counted, Starscream told himself. The crown, the cape, the throne, so very insignificant but my, the boost they brought. Of all the little things Starscream appreciated most, it was the self-loathing look in Galvatron's eyes when his former Master was brought, bound and helpless, into the throne room, fleshed out of the_ Nemesis_'s husk_._

Two Eradicons who would have deactivated themselves before even thinking of touching Megatron were now thrusting and forcing the silver-purple mech onto his knees at Starscream's feet. The Seeker king gestured them off, and they disappeared, leaving the two alone.

Starscream stared down at Galvatron. He folded one leg over the other, bridged hands on his lap. "Isn't this an interesting turn of events," he purred. "The Mighty Galvatron, bowing his head low to Starscream. After eons of denying me of my place as leader, and egotistical faith that you could never be defeated." He chuckled darkly. "Look where your naivety got you. Disabled, powerless, weak, disrespected and laughed at, ruined and tarnished. You've lost your might and your glow." He clicked his claws together and sighed. "If I were a merciful king, I would put you out of your misery. However, I haven't yet decided your fate."

Galvatron kept his eyes on the floor. Glared hellfire at Starscream's tapping heel. "What to do, what to do," Starscream hummed, shaking his head. "I've so many ideas, it's so hard to choose just one." He gently nudged at the purple mech's chin, forced him to raise his optics. "You're being very rude, Galvatron. You should look your superiors in the eyes when they talk to you."

Galvatron lifted his head. His optics stared straight into Starscream's, full of so much more than just raw hatred. Starscream grinned pearly whites. "Ah, yes, that's what I like to see," he crooned. He sat forward, placing the tip of one sharp finger beneath the mech's chin. Tapped against it. "I do, however, have one little idea. It may not prove beneficial to your survival, but still, I venture it might be worth your while."

Galvatron's brows knit. He was slightly curious, if not even further annoyed by Starscream's stalling.

The Seeker's grin was malicious, deadly. "We had so much fun in our older days, don't you think? When we fresh and new and we did not see the disease underlying your good intentions." He smirked at the slight scowl he earned. "How about we relive those days - just one last time. Before I decide if you are to live or die, once and for all."

Galvatron snorted. "So predictable…"

Starscream snickered. "Oh, but you don't seem too adverse to the idea, if I'm reading the fluctuations in your energy signature correctly," he crooned. He took the mech's chin, pulled him closer as he reclined back in his throne, his cape pouring over it like a blanket of energon. Galvatron went as commanded, did not fight back. Soon, his knees were pressed against the cold steel and marble, his head hovering between the Seeker's open legs. "Play your cards right, you'll enjoy this as well."

Galvatron was indeed warming up. His chassis was turning hot. Eyes full of anxious desire, lust bordering murderous. Starscream wasn't afraid, however. He reached over Galvatron's shoulder, clicked away the coding keeping the larger mech's arms cuffed. They opened with a 'click', fell, and now Galvatron was free, moving his arms back to his front. Oh, the Seeker was very well aware that his former Master could easily crush him with those bare hands, but he also knew he wouldn't be foolish enough to try.

As Starscream expected, Galvatron's large, heavy hands lifted, but did not aim to harm. They rested over the Seeker's hips, held them almost tenderly. Starscream stretched in his hands, backstruct rolling against the throne. The two exchanged looks - one devious, other indescribable - momentarily, just a split second, and then Starscream was moaning around his victorious smile as Galvatron's glossa traced obedient circles along his waist.

Starscream closed his eyes, enjoying this wonderful act of submission. Galvatron slipped his tongue around seams, along dermal plating, working up and then down. He moved south, let his tongue dip between mid-section and pelvis. Tasting peripheral circuitry nested just underneath the surface. Up a moment to kiss and lick abdomen plating, small energon pumps like veins wrenched to the surface. Then his mouth was breathing hot against his groin, the metal that pressed and slipped down between Starscream's legs. Galvatron's great shoulders heaved as he lowered himself, kissing and stroking his tongue against the sensitive plating of the Seeker's thighs. He nipped at the seam between limb and pelvis, and Starscream groaned obscenely, nearly closing his long legs around the purple mech's head.

Starscream dropped a hand to the top of Galvatron's helm. Dug his claws against the sharp horns that formed the mech's own thorny crown, now lost of its luster. "Yes, _yes_," he purred, dragging his words into hisses. Galvatron continued pleasuring his thigh, along the bottom of his groin plating, licking and lapping like a dog with its tail between its legs. Starscream whimpered, cycles hitching, when the purple mech dragged his nails almost too roughly along the padding of his right thigh. Would leave behind marks, but he did not mind in the least.

As Galvatron's head lifted, Starscream sat back. The rough hands around his hips yanked him forward, and now Galvatron was hungrily relishing the cold metal of Starscream's body. Leaving behind streaks of coolant as his tongue prodded and tasted every nuance and dip of his plating. The Decepticon leader was grinning widely, his optics glittering; he rested his elbows against the massive armrests, relaxing his head against the back of his hands. Sitting quaint and pretty in the arms of his throne and Galvatron's iron grip.

"It's the little things," Starscream purred. He swallowed hard. "The pleasure does not solely derive from the physical contact." He nudged his groin up against Galvatron's face, who gave a throaty growl. "Rather, the act itself. Look at you, my dear Master." Galvatron paused, saw the glow of his optics against Starscream's silver plating. The glow cast from the jewels along the Seeker's crown. "Oh," Starscream cooed, "_how the mighty have fallen."_

At least a Decepticon could dream.

Starscream opened his optics, dim in the darkness of his cell. He heard the humming of the electric bars fall silent. Sitting up, Airachnid stood outside, between the threshold of freedom and imprisonment. She smiled. "Lord Me - _ahem _- Galvatron will speak to you now," she purred, gesturing out into the brig's hall. Starscream slowly gathered to his feet. "Though with that cannon loaded," the femme snickered, "I doubt there will be much talking involved."

Starscream snorted at Airachnid as he stepped out. "You underestimate my value to Lord… Galvatron," he scowled and shoved past her. Eradicons were waiting to escort him to what would either be forgiveness, or an execution. Still, if he were to die tonight, he could look Galvatron in the eyes, and smile and that alone would be enough to infuriate the tyrant and comfort him to his demise.

END


	3. Other Methods

Other Methods: PG-13

Inspired by art by norunn8931 at deviantART. The picture: **http : / / fav . me / d4hcofp** (you will need to remove the spaces to access the link)

A/N: Story doesn't really have a specific setting, but we'll go with "present day".

**AmIraDarksouL** - thank you so much for your prompt! It actually sounds interesting. I may have to tackle it some time!

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><p>Starscream tried just about everything, short of deactivating himself to save himself from the imminent torture. Still, these cuffs had proven to be worthy adversaries. Nonetheless, Starscream was not about to meet his end just because of these damn things kept him from freedom. His weapons might have been stripped and disabled, but he could still fly. Flying while handcuffed was not exactly the best nor wisest of actions to take, but if push-of-knife-in-back came to violently-hurl-shove, then he'd risk it.<p>

Still, he was pretty sure he was putting on a show for someone. Writhing, nearly rolling on the ground, attempting to remove the bonds. Beating them against the wall or beneath his weight did nothing. They were ridiculously strong. This was a great blow to his massive ego. Starscream would not be outwitted by a pair of stupid handcuffs, even if it meant having to risk (more) of his pride to thrash and snarl about to remove them.

Finally, after exerting himself near exhaustion, Starscream dropped to his knees, heaved forward with great, bitter gulps of air. Hands still bound behind his back. He ground his denta; slagging no good when he got out of here _oh the person who put these on him _suffer suffer suffer torment torment…__

The single door in this suffocating room clicked, and hissed open. Starscream sat upright in a small jolt. If the heavy footfalls were any indication, this new presence was definitely not good, sudden fear rushed down his backstrut. His wings clamped together in a show of his fright and uneasiness. The steps were getting closer, and Starscream almost regretted slowly glancing back over his shoulder, displaying that look of wariness as Megatron stopped just behind him.

The towering silver mech studied the Seeker's frame. How stiff he was, his claws pulled into tight fists below the binding trapping his wrists together. Starscream swallowed, his lips pulling back into a frown. "M-Master," he murmured, "may I—I inquire as to… to why I've been put… in these… uh…"

Megatron did not answer. He moved around the Seeker. A shark circling its wounded prey. Starscream tried to keep eye contact, but it was always a bit difficult. Megatron stopped behind him again, too close, as Starscream could feel his heat against the edges of his cocked wings. Then large, sharp fingers took one tip, pinched and the Seeker hissed, eyes squinting. Okay, so, this wasn't going to end well. The handcuffs were sort of a clear warning of this, however, but still.

"If you need to ask that question, Starscream," Megatron said, and then his hand smoothed against the Seeker's curved back, "then I was poorly misguided to believe you had at least an iota of intelligence."

Okay, so perhaps it was a rhetorical question. Because Starscream wasn't entirely stupid - still, of all the times to exact revenge, why now? When everything seemed to have been going so smoothly… Oh, well, now he understood. It was the perfect opportunity. Unsuspecting. Starscream cursed internally. Stupid, stupid…

Then Starscream felt that hand move up, to curve around one large shoulder. The second hand parted the shivering wings, and Starscream wilted beneath the weight suddenly pressed against him. Megatron's scarred lips and fangs were dangerously close to the Seeker's throat. Right over a vital energon fuel line. One terrible bite, and he'd bleed out. Starscream swallowed another lump in his throat, tried not to quiver. His fingers flexed against his palms.

"Certainly you would not, um," Starscream stuttered, "resort to such… base, pathetic means of… torture." Oh, he was sure Megatron understood what he was implying. "It is not in your CNA to sink so… so low, my Lord."

Megatron chuckled. Hot air wafted into Starscream's olfactory. He flinched. "My, Starscream, your processors seem to be lying in the gutter," he teased. He squeezed the Seeker's shoulder, just enough to dent the metal and earn a small whimper. "Besides, I am not so unoriginal as you believe me to be. What makes you think I'd desire copulating, consensual or otherwise, with a _worm like you?"_

Starscream wanted to ask him if that was a joke. Because, well, it wasn't like they hadn't done some… Well. He swallowed for the umpteenth time; his throat was dry. "N-No, I'm not impl—suggesting you— Well, you know how some… Well." Best shut up. He was digging an extra couple hundred feet to his grave.

Megatron laughed. He reached his hand around, took Starscream's chin. Forced his head aside and back until steel creaked. "No, Starscream," he crooned, "I've other ways to enjoy you writhing and screaming beneath me without using such ridiculous methods." Though his tongue tracing the side of the Seeker's face was not very convincing. Only until Megatron sunk his teeth into the top of Starscream's helm did he realize he shouldn't have second guessed his intentions.

"Whether you survive or not depends entirely on your stamina. I highly suggest applying that foolish determination to overthrow me to your will to live. It's much more progressive that way."

Starscream shivered as talons tore into his chestplates.

Oh, scrap.

END


	4. Threshold

Threshold: PG (sexuality)

Inspired by art by tench. The picture: **http : / / tinyurl . com / 8xqaf2l (you will need to remove spaces to access link)**

A/N: No specific point in time. Somewhere mid-season, I guess.

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><p>There were dozens of eyes, he'll remember that. All of them void of life and soul. Blasphemous things that should not be. All those eyes, filled with blood lust and hunger. They could have easily overpowered him, their shattered fingers itching to tear apart flesh and armor. Nothing but mindless violence and the desire to kill and maim and destroy. The sounds they made were unnatural, those of mechs suffering in the Pit itself. Gaping, drooling maws, untamed beasts lurking in the shadows where their eyes shone best.<p>

Yet, they did not move. Remained in the darkness, lingering, tip-toeing the very edges of obedience and mutiny. It was the will of another that kept them at bay. Their Master, who might have frightened Starscream more than all these monsters. Large, silver talons curled around Starscream's shoulders. Metal dented, and the undead grunted at the mouth-watering sound. Starscream fell slack, his knees buckled, forcing himself to a half-stand. He was terrified, and any attempt to hide his fear, he knew, was utterly in vain. So he did not bother to try.

The heat of Megatron's spark - irradiated with the same mock-lifeforce that fueled these zombies - was pressed to the Seeker's back. Grinding carelessly against armor. Starscream swallowed. He kept his head forward, bowed. Said nothing. The tyrant did not seem to mind, however. Besides the soft grumbles and hum of his systems working overtime, he was equally silent. Rolling against his subordinate as his audience of undead slaves watched, restless, famished. Starscream breathed, his body swaying up against the larger one practically poured over him.

Megatron worked hard circles into his shoulders before hands dropped down twitching arms. Slipped along the Seeker's midsection to grope plating. It shivered beneath his hand. "Your fear," the tyrant whispered hot against the back of Starscream's audiol, "is almost potent." His violet optics flicked up to meet the compliant but uneasy glares of his slaves. "They can smell it. Like wild animals. It's quite a thrill, having such power over their hunger when it is this immense."

Starscream grit his denta. Claws scraped along his hips. Nothing too deep, however. It was then that he realized - Megatron was, in a way, being gentle with him. Very odd, considering their position. It was as if he had no choice in the matter. That if he could not tear his subordinate apart or use violence, he could utilize fear in its place. It was working, too. Starscream wasn't trying to hide his terror, though he made no sound. Occasionally groaned, but not from fear.

One hand slipped up Starscream's chest. Rested against plating that protected his encased spark. It was beating rapidly against its tomb. Thrashing wildly. Megatron's systems flushed and he shivered. His fingers curled, pawed, but Starscream kept armor closed. It might have angered him, but Megatron did not fight. He wasn't forcing, he wasn't demanding, and for a moment, Starscream wondered if this intimate exercise was not entirely done to scare him.

Megatron rested his face to the back of Starscream's helm. "I could rip your spark out," he grumbled, voice full of acid and something indescribable. Flattened digits against the chestplate, to feel more of the pulsing, horrified spark. "I could turn you into one of _these." Below, ragged fingers curled around one of Megatron's legs, optics peering with intrigue up at its master. Owlish, fearless, hungry. Megatron's hand retracted from Starscream's chest, and the Seeker clutched a hand to it, as if to protect it. "All your pride, your treachery and your lies - gone. You'd be nothing but a hollow shell, swearing complete, undying loyalty to me. You would not fight with me, and you would gladly die if I so wished it."_

Megatron's threat, however, almost felt empty.

Starscream grunted as the spark pushed between his wings. Talons gripped his shoulders, and he was so close to falling. The radiant purple blinding his eyes. The growls and whines of the zombie soldiers growing closer. "Such a fate..." Starscream croaked. Megatron nuzzled his face against the Seeker's helm, optics closed. "... Would be," he swallowed, "worse than... death."

The tyrant grinned. He couldn't help but chuckle. "You never cease to amuse me. Whether you intentionally mean to or not." A purr rumbled in his throat. A howl in the distance. "Perhaps..." He did not finish, however. Reached overload, and energy tainted with the blood of Unicron slipped beneath Starscream's plating. His spark thrummed and he almost collapsed. A hand tightened around him, keeping the Seeker upright. He heard a grunt, and then, one by one, the eyes of the starved creatures disappeared and their inhumane noises fell silent in the distance.

Starscream decided not to ask Megatron what he was going to say before he overloaded. He was positive it was best Megatron never finished.

END

CLOSE TO ROMANCE I GUESS?


	5. Talents

Talents: PG (sexuality)

Inspired by art by kaddson. The picture:** **http : / / tinyurl . com / 89vj968**** (you will need to remove spaces to access link)

A/N: Prior to the events of the TV show.

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><p>"I'm a mech of many talents," Starscream said. "Leadership is one of my greater qualities."<p>

Megatron glanced up from his high grade, red optics flickering. Curiosity quickly replaced by confusion with just a hint of suspicion. He wasn't sure if he liked or distrusted the half-leer on the Seeker's face. Starscream had two patented grins - plotting or fretting. The latter usually when he tried - and ultimately failed - to hide his anxiety or fear to the Decepticon leader. This one, however, was positively radiating thick, oily desire. Not entirely unexpected, just a blue moon sort of event. Megatron could, perhaps, choc it up to the high grade they had been consuming. They drank and ate merry after thieving and bleeding dry a vital Autobot outpost, something they reserved only for immense victories as this.

Starscream wasn't overcharged, as the few times he had been around Megatron, he had never displayed any sexual inclinations. Mostly he was just more vocal and even more cowardly - bold enough to whine about Megatron within a five feet vicinity, but even quicker to grovel and sob apologies. Either the energon was some special brew or Starscream was just high off the victory fumes, as tonight had been extra special for him.

Megatron had not noticed, in his contemplating the situation, Starscream moving toward him, so very, very close until the Seeker was parting his legs (and he let him, as if he had no control over his limbs) and slipping between them. Such a thin waist, but his shoulders wide, giving off a menacing, top heavy shadow. Megatron knew he could break Starscream, but he also knew the Seeker wasn't fragile.

"That has yet to be seen, Starscream," Megatron finally replied. "You are also a braggart, and hardly have you backed up most of your claims."

Starscream chuckled, something throaty. A cool smile on his face. He was hardly offended. "You haven't given me exactly enough room to," he paused, flitted his fingers and wings, "stretch my wings. However, I've proven thus far how important I am to your cause. The door to many new opportunities has been opened."

"Thus far," Megatron agreed. "But you have yet to prove your worth as tectonic or detrimental." He tapped a sharp claw against metal. "Sufficient, yes, but not monumental."

"My Lord," Starscream said, and he was moving back. Only for a moment, so he could slide up and along Megatron's leg. Both mechs gave low rumbles against the warm contact. "You will see that you have chosen wisely to assign me as your second." Ah, yes, Megatron got it now - the Seeker was drunk on his pride, so giddy; Starscream had been promoted to second in command after the Autobot bunker and power house was destroyed. He had, indeed, earned his place, but Megatron knew he chose to forget the fact the previous SIC had been killed so he could swiftly take the poor soul's place. "Surely superior to my witless, trigger-happy predecessor." Really, it had been his predecessor's fault he wound up a stain on the battlefield.

"Or maybe it's only temporary?" Megatron gibed. He kept a straight face as he wrapped a large hand around the Seeker's curved aft. Pulled the surprised mech closer, and he twitched, quickly bracing a hand to Megatron's thigh. "Did you ever stop to consider that?" he continued. An eyebrow climbed at the sudden alarm in Starscream's optics. "You are not as irreplaceable as you have come to believe, Starscream."

"Even then," Starscream swallowed, slight concern in his content features, "I would not consider myself expendable, either."

Megatron's other hand rested on Starscream's hip. "Not yet, at least." His claws scratched metal and Starscream flinched. "Though, rest easy," he said, "as I am on your side, so to speak, and hold high expectations of you. Your concern is understandable and reasonable, however." He bumped his chest to the Seeker's.

Starscream's grin was brushing against his frown. "You've nothing to worry about, Master," he crooned. Second hand to Megatron's side, his optics remained open as he kissed his leader. Megatron was firm, did not respond to the kiss. The gentle glide of tongue over his lips, pressing against pointed denta. They stared into each others eyes, spark pulses thudding in their ears with the distant, obnoxious cackling and rambunctious howling of their inebriated companions far away.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Megatron kissed back, and didn't take long to claim the Seeker's mouth. Starscream shuttered his optics and groaned against the tyrant's lips, digging claws ever-so carefully into silver steel. He began to ride in slow but heavy strokes along Megatron's leg, chest bumping and grinding and the Decepticon leader expressed grattitude by gripping and soothing heavy circles into the Seeker's plating.

Whether making Starscream second in command of the Decepticons was a good or bad idea was unknown, but it certainly did not matter right now. It was a time of celebration, and backstabbing could always wait for tomorrow's hangover.

END

I was not implying Starscream was going to thank Megatron by screwing him, but rather, yes, he's in a damn good mood.


	6. Rules of the Game

Rules of the Game: PG (mild violence)

A/N: Nothing great; just something I threw out. Takes place before the TV show, some time early in the war on Cybertron.

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><p>Starscream's grin was best described as "shit eating". He felt like he was on top of the world, so very, very proud of himself. And to think, only an hour ago, he was at his wits' end with everything.<p>

Megatron had given Starscream orders to deliver to a group of Eradicons of Starscream's choosing. He had that much say in the matter. The orders were clear and firm and the Seeker was to carry them out or suffer grave consequences. So Starscream picked a few of the more competent drones, gathered them in a row and debriefed them. They were to be tasked with a small but potentially dangerous recon mission. However, something about Megatron's plan didn't sit quite well with him - it was a minor flaw and Starscream knew he was wise to ignore it. However, instead, he decided to... fix it up a bit.

So when the Eradicons returned successful and relatively unscathed, Starscream chalked it up to his addition and repairs to Megatron's scheme. If the Eradicons had followed the plan in all its original orders, most likely one of them would have not returned. After gathering their reports, he sent the Eradicons back to their usual business and retreated to his temporary chambers - a small hut on the outskirts of Iacon's remains. All the while, practically bouncing in his stride, nearly on the verge of humming.

However, all good things eventually come to an end.

It had been only ten minutes after Starscream patched the Eradicons' mission reports to Megatron did the tyrant suddenly appear, storming inside his tent like a wild hurricane. Starscream whirled around with shock. "Lord Megatron?" he breathed, wide-eyed at the look of pure rage and betrayal on his leader's face. "Is there something the-"

"Why did you tell the Eradicons to change their position!" Megatron interjected with a furious snarl. He threw himself forward, one heavy footfall enough to nearly knock the entire place down.

The Seeker recoiled, wing clipping the edge of his tent. He crouched, attempting to appear humble and harmless - it was working. "L-Lord Megatron, there was a small fallacy in your scheme and what the drones were expected to do, and I-I," he gulped, wringing his hands nervously together, "only wished to-to fix it." He risked a frightened look up at Megatron, who appeared about ready to explode.

"You fool!" Megatron shrieked. He backhanded the Seeker, sending him flying into the tent. "I did not give you permission to tamper with my orders!"

"M-Master, please!" Starscream pleaded. He scrambled against the wall. "The change was harmless! I had no intent of ruining your plans!" He threw open his arms as he finally stood, optics wide. "Had I not corrected your mistake, we-" Megatron reached out and grabbed the Seeker by a wing. Starscream winced and suddenly went stiff and rigid. "Please, commander," he swallowed, trying to remain calm, "if you will only listen-"

"I am the one giving commands here, Starscream!" the Decepticon tyrant snarled, spittle hitting Starscream's face. He winced. "Not you! And you defy me by going behind my back and altering my plans!"

Starscream was completely dumbfounded. What had he done wrong? If anything, he had only improved his leader's commands.

Megatron swept forward, getting face to face with Starscream, still clutching his wing. "Tell me, Starscream: was my flaw an error with possible disastrous conclusions?"

Starscream's brain scrambled for answers. "No," he said quickly, claws clicking together, "it was merely flawed, but it was not an error of considerable propor-"

"Flawed, but not an error. Therefore, it did not necessarily need to be 'corrected', am I right?"

"Y-Yes, I sup-"

Megatron growled.

"-Yes, yes you are right."

"You knew all of this, and yet you still felt the need to meddle," Megatron growled. His grip on Starscream's wing tightened; pushing hard enough to dent metal. Starscream grimaced, his free wing hiking with shared agitation and fear.

"My Lord," Starscream murmured, "I only... wanted to help..."

Megatron's face was close, much too close. "If I had wanted your help, Starscream, I would have asked for it," he said, voice sickly, mockingly sweet, but extremely dangerous. The Seeker gulped. "Perhaps you may not understand, for you are not in my position: error or flaw, no matter your excuse, you must remember where you stand. You have, even with your reason of simply wanting to 'help', defied me. A small, very small step out of line with harmless intent, but nonetheless, you crossed into territory where you do not belong."

Starscream thought he understood, but kept quiet instead. "Remember this, Starscream," Megatron grumbled, pressing the tip of one claw beneath his second's chin, forcing it to tilt back. Starscream shuddered. "I make the rules, and you follow them, no matter your opinion of my methods," he said darkly. "I rule the Decepticons, and thus, I rule you."

Megatron drew back his face, just a few inches. He smiled something terrible. "Do you understand?" he asked, voice almost a purr.

Starscream shuddered. Though Megatron had lowered his hand, Starscream's head still remained tilted back, frightened optics staring down at his leader's cruel grin. "I understand, Master," he reassured after struggling to find the ability to speak.

"Good," Megatron cooed. He stepped back, and sized his second in command from head to heel strut. Starscream tried to keep calm, though some of his armor was rattling. "I'm glad we can see eye to eye, Starscream," the Decepticon leader said a moment later, giving a friendly pat to the wing he had dented. "I hate for you to have to slip up again. Very minor, of course, but it's no fun for anyone when I have to go about... correcting your little mistakes."

Starscream's grin was wide but forced. "Yes," he tittered, "no fun... for anyone..."

With that, Megatron turned, hands behind his back, strolling outside the tent. Once he was gone, Starscream reeled back with a huge, somewhat irritable sigh of relief. However, he hadn't been watching where he was going, his back colliding with one of the poles holding up the tent-

A few Vehicons stopped their work to watch their commander thrash beneath his collapsed tent, cursing and yowling like a very wet and very pissed off cat.

END


	7. A Situation of Position

A Situation of Position: PG-13-ish/T (sexuality, mild/moderate violence)

A/N: Another take on a 50_darkfics' prompt, "rule/ruler". The previous drabble was my first attempt, but I decided to discard it as a fill. So... This'll have to do.

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><p>Starscream's back hit the wall with a deafening <em>thud<em>. With a low, rumbling groan of pain, the Decepticon slid down the wall, metal screeching against steel. Before he could fall on his aft, Starscream gasped, immensely strong bladed fingers taking him by the throat, forcing his head back into a strained tilt. He was pulled slowly back to his shaking feet by the grasp around his neck, talons digging into vital fuel pumps. Just a little more pressure, and they'd be severed.

Starscream rolled up his cracked, dim red optics, staring into the glowering face of the war tyrant. Megatron loomed over him like a fierce, all-consuming darkness. He forced his thumb against Starscream's mandible, puncturing a small hole in the hard armor; the Seeker hissed, optics squinting. Megatron ducked forward, until he was face to face with the Decepticon hanging like dead meat in his grip. Twin faces of terror reflected in Starscream's petrified eyes.

"M-Master," Starscream wheezed, gulping loudly. "I-I beg of you..." His shaking fingers reached to tug away the hand restraining him, but the Decepticon leader need only make a disapproving grunt and Starscream dropped his hands again. Knowing struggle would only make things worse. The sharp edge of the thumb pressed into his bottom jaw dragged back into a whining hiss, leaving behind an ugly, jagged scratch. Starscream swallowed again, tasting energon bubbling in the pit of his throat, rising alongside the dread.

Megatron snorted hot air against the Seeker's face. Starscream grimaced. "How predictable," he sneered, "for you to beg and plead for your life despite knowing this was the inevitable outcome. Every time, Starscream, every time your half-brained, futile attempts to overthrow me fail, lead us to this same dance. Yet you _never_," his thumbnail pushed against a fuel pump and Starscream went completely, utterly still, "seem to learn."

Starscream winced. "I... I did not intend t-to cause you any harm, m-my Lord."

"You were not issued to make commands behind my back," Megatron spat, spittle hitting Starscream's horrified, scarred face. "You had your orders, yet you deliberately disobeyed me. You thought yourself clever, that you could... get away with this minor, subtle change of plans, but you underestimated me. You always have, Starscream." The Seeker gave a small shriek as he was slammed against the wall, the Decepticon warlord's face still much too close. "And that is why you will always fail."

"I-It was - "

"- _Insubordination_," Megatron interjected with a low growl. "No excuses. Though you may have not put anyone's life on the line - for once - you still stepped outof line." His second hand placed itself over Starscream's trembling belly, where it stilled the moment it felt his cold, dangerous touch. Megatron protracted his fingers, digging talons into the armor; Starscream tried to pull back, but the wall kept him firmly in place.

Starscream felt his tanks churn. "I never-never intended f-for you to s-see it as, uh, as..." He was tongue-tied, too horrified to speak, unable to form any coherent thoughts. He was on the very brink of death, held back only by the hands threatening to push him over. His wings shivered, claking against his armor, and Megatron gave a disgusted snort at his unabashed display of cowardice. "You- You must understand. I-It was not... my intention. I simply... wanted to d-do what was... was best. F-For the Decept - for _you_, my Lord._"_

Megatron squinted an optic, studying the Seeker's face. He pushed his nails against Starscream's abdominal plating, puncturing the steel, and Starscream was about to run himself breathless with ugly, pathetic pleas of mercy. Megatron stopped that from happening, however, and retracted his fingers before finally drawing his hand off Starscream's scratched abdomen. Yet he kept his grip tight around the Seeker's jaw, fully aware he had dented and pushed in some of the metal alongside his throat and chin.

Megatron then raised his head, optics-lidded. Finally, he asked, voice solemn and calm, "Who am I, Starscream?"

The Seeker blinked. "... L-Lord Megatron, the-the leader of the Decepticons?" he offered with a pitiful look of hope.

"That's right," Megatron said, nearly _purring_. He slowly loosened his fingers from Starscream's throat. "And who are you?"

Starscream relaxed, just a little. "I am... I am your... your second in command. Your... Your lieutenant," he answered, voice returning to its usual low drawl.

"So then tell me: how is it you keep forgetting your place?"

The Seeker bowed his head. "... I," he murmured, claws nervously clicking together. He could not meet his Master's gaze, instead shifting back and forth along the floor. "... I was foolish. To think that-that our positions... Could be reversed."

"Not only that," Megatron crooned, "but also the ridiculous notion of _you _ever taking command from_ _me__, no matter your position." He glowered. "Many would kill to be in your place, Starscream. Should I allow them the honors?"

Starscream's eyes flew to meet Megatron's somewhat curious gaze. "N-No, my liege!" He raised his hands quickly. "No, I-I would... Would very much like to... to continue serving you as your second in command. I am..." He brushed a shaking hand to his chest and bowed slightly. "Ever humbled and grateful you... you chose me for the position."

Megatron snorted. "As I recall, gratitude was not shown in attempts to usurp or assassinate your leaders." Starscream's wings twitched, hiking up an inch. Megatron let his second in command soak in the fear a moment before finally stepping back and easing up. Still, Starscream remained absolutely still, fearing any movement would lead to another throttling. "You seem to forget your place often, Starscream. However, as you are still valuable to me _for the time being_, I will allow you the pleasure of remaining my second as well as living to see another day."

Starscream grinned lopsidedly. "M-My Lord, I thank you from the bottom of my spark."

"However."

The Seeker's wings twitched again. Megatron folded his arms behind his back. "To prove you fully understand our positions, I would like you to show me," he said. Tilted his head. "A demonstration of sorts."

Starscream frowned. "What-What may I do to prove myself...?" He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"There is a very simple, common gesture of respect shown by inferiors to their superiors, one I think will suffice," Megatron explained. He stepped one large foot forward. "One you are no doubt well aware of."

It took a moment for this information to sink in. Starscream looked from Megatron's face to his foot. Then... Starscream felt a ripple of fury run down his backstrut. Of all the undignified, repulsive suggestions...! He wanted to tell Megatron where he could promptly shove his foot before he remembered his current situation. That even if he _had _said that, the foot would no doubt find itself somewhere lodged inside him. Starscream willed away the budding anger and forced down his pride with a loud, tormented swallow.

Megatron watched Starscream closely as the smaller Decepticon, with much reluctance, bent forward. Extended his arms as he wilted into a kneel. He braced his hands against the cold ground by each side of Megatron's foot, bowed his head. Starscream glared hatefully at that pede, wanting so badly to just sever it from its Master's leg. Megatron made a noise akin to clearing his throat and Starscream closed his eyes until he saw bright bursts of light. His ego thrashing and wailing, the Seeker bent down. His claws tore into the ground as he pressed his lips to the top of the giant silver foot.

Starscream went to pull away before Megatron nudged his foot closer. Oh, God, _more_? He looked up at his leader, who simply gave a half-nod. Starscream wanted to rip the ridges off of his damn head, the rage slowly threatening to surface. No, no, remain calm; if he disobeyed his Master, he'd find himself eating his own foot. So Starscream forced his head back down and kissed his foot again.

It was with careful coaxing, years of serving under Megatron where subtle nuances and movements spoke louder than any direct, verbal command. Starscream wrapped spindly claws around Megatron's thick ankle, letting his mouth trail kisses from the top of his foot, up along his leg. Stopping just below his knee to start over again, kissing his way back down. Each kiss, each little peck, was like a blow to Starscream's battered, infuriated pride. His fingers were nearly too tight gripping Megatron's calve, but they relaxed before the warlord had to "tell" him to loosen up.

Starscream never thought it would be over. As he pressed a kiss to the edge of Megatron's foot, the Decepticon leader abruptly stepped back. Starscream wasn't fast enough; the same foot he had been pampering with kisses kicked him swiftly beneath his chin, neck and head snapping back. Starscream hit the wall a third time that day, processors dizzy, vision momentarily blurred. He shook his head, wide eyes filled with both fear, anger and indignation met Megatron's equally annoyed gaze.

Megatron turned. "Remember your place, Starscream," he said, "and, if possible, try to learn some humility." He headed for the door in an easy stride. Starscream watched him in befuddled silence. Once the doors closed and he could no longer hear his heavy footfalls, Starscream fired a blast into the wall beside the door.

Starscream heaved, entire body shivering, but no longer from fear. "Humility?" he spit through his ground denta, one wide optic twitching. He kept his null ray aimed at the door, watching smoke billow from the gaping hole in the wall. A moment later, he grinned wickedly. "It will be quite a _humbling _experience for you once those ruled become the rulers, Master."

END


End file.
